


Doctor Doctor, Give Me The News

by SuperstringSymphony



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Arc Reactor Issues, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Mcu Stony Bingo, Sickfic, Team as Family, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, of a sort, tower fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-28
Updated: 2018-05-28
Packaged: 2019-05-14 20:30:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,739
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14776754
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperstringSymphony/pseuds/SuperstringSymphony
Summary: “You are still shivering, stop whining Stark.”  Anyone else might balk at having the Black Widow approaching them in a semi menacing fashion, but Tony just looks nonplussed.“I'm fine, I'm not whining, this is unnecessary, and how did Clint wrap me up in this blanket so tightly?  I'm trapped in here like a caterpillar.”  Tony appears to be making a break out of his blanket cocoon unsuccessfully.“You're a very cute caterpillar.”  Steve says, announcing his presence as he pushes off the wall to come striding towards Tony.





	Doctor Doctor, Give Me The News

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ceruleansmile](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ceruleansmile/gifts).



> The amazing and multi-talented [Rowantreeisme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rowantreeisme) made me the art in this fic, and I decided to use it as inspiration for my MCU Stony bingo free square. Buckle up yall it’s fluffy sickfic time. This is also a BIRTHDAY GIFT for the loverly Spacetato on the TSDL discord, happy BIRTH ily.
> 
> This is not anything past Avengers 1 compliant, that’s right it’s team as family living in the tower time because I have no shame or self control.

Steve wakes on a chilly Saturday morning to an empty bed. It's not unusual for Tony to be gone in the mornings. Sometimes he's still down in the lab, other times it's because he awoke some time during the night with ideas buzzing through his mind. It wouldn't be unusual, however, Steve has been gone for the last week on a mission with Natasha. Typically when he returns from one of those, Tony greets him with a whirlwind of kisses and wandering hands. He had not even stirred when Steve crawled into bed with him last evening.

“JARVIS, is Tony angry with me?” He asks, after staring at the mussed spot on the sheets where Tony had slept the entire night.

“No Captain Rogers, I believe sir is practicing avoidance. He is rather skilled at that.” JARVIS says crisply. Steve's brow furrows with concern. He swings his legs over the side of the bed, and walks over to his dresser to root around in it for a tee.

“What's he avoiding, did he try to weaponize one of my paintbrushes again while I was gone?” That had been an interesting surprise. Steve remembers staring at the charred hole in his canvas for a good five minutes before Tony sheepishly admitted he may have gotten inspired after watching a James Bond movie. Steve pulls his shirt on, glancing around the room for anything out of place.

“He has been speaking of giving you heelies, but I believe that was not a serious consideration. Ah, perhaps you may ask him yourself, he requires your assistance in the tower living room.” JARVIS says, pulling his attention away from a box of paints sitting on his dresser that definitely were not there before.

“Is he alright?” Steve asks, already striding from the room.

“He is fine, merely in need of your intervention.” JARVIS sounds amused. That more than anything assuages any worry.

As he gets closer to the living room, he hears Tony talking, well more grumbling. It becomes louder and louder the closer he gets. Natasha is speaking with him, tone fond. When Steve leans against the doorway, he sees Nat holding what looks to be a large hand knit shawl large enough to be a blanket.

“You are still shivering, stop whining Stark.” Anyone else might balk at having the Black Widow approaching them in a semi menacing fashion, but Tony just looks nonplussed.

“I'm fine, I'm not whining, this is unnecessary, and how did Clint wrap me up in this blanket so tightly? I'm trapped in here like a caterpillar.” Tony appears to be making a break out of his blanket cocoon unsuccessfully.

“You're a very cute caterpillar.” Steve says, announcing his presence as he pushes off the wall to come striding towards Tony.

“Oh no.” Tony whispers to himself, expression becoming more and more sheepish the closer Steve approaches. Steve is about to ask why his presence is making Tony so uncomfortable when his entire face scrunches up and he lets out a painful sounding sneeze. Steve freezes in his tracks.

“Are you sick?” He asks, stepping in front of Tony to press the palm of his hand over his forehead.

“No” Tony growls, at the same time as Natasha says yes. The pair of them glare at each other. Beneath his hand, Tony's skin feels far too warm. His cheeks are flushed, and there's a slightly wet sound invading his breathing.

“Tony.” He starts, and brown eyes drag up to narrow in his direction.

“Don't even, we were going to fly to Malibu today, I promised to show you the superiority of a burger from In n' Out.”

“Your lung capacity is shot, you shouldn't be flying.” Natasha says, taking advantage of Tony's distraction to finish wrapping him in the knitted shawl.

“It is **not** I'm fine, peachy keen, one hundred percent ok-” He breaks off to sneeze again, the sneeze rapidly devolving into a coughing fit that both looks and sounds painful. Steve sinks down on the couch, pulling him close and letting him shiver and groan through the coughing until he stills. Most days it's easy to forget that the arc reactor can't be the most comfortable thing to live with. On days like this though, where Tony goes tense and pained after something as simple as a sneeze, Steve is reminded of just how invasive the arc must be.

“I'm going to go pick up your cough medicine from the pharmacy.” Natasha leans down to kiss Tony's forehead before she leaves. Tony seems too exhausted to complain, merely grumbling and snuggling further into Steve's arms.

“Why does everyone keep giving me forehead kisses?” Tony mutters against Steve's neck.

“It's because you're cute.” Bruce says, coming striding into the room holding a pale blue cool-pac and a bottle of low dose aspirin. He passes it over to Steve along with a mug of tea. “Tea is for you, cold pack and aspirin are for him. Don't argue.” Bruce points at Tony, shuffling across the room to grab another blanket off one of the movie recliners.

“Bruce, green bean, c'mon, not you too.” Tony says plaintively, when Bruce drapes another blanket around him and leans down to kiss his forehead.

“You take care of all of us, now, we take care of you. It's simple equation balancing, in other words, deal with it Stark.” Bruce's tone brooks no argument. He nods in satisfaction when Steve presses the pac to Tony's forehead and helps him take the aspirin. “Good, don't let him do anything strenuous.”

“Oh I have plenty of _strenuous_ things I could be doing right now Bruce, but I won't, because I am an adult, and I feel like shit right now, very unsexy.”

“So you admit you feel like shit.” Steve observes, laughing when that earns him a poke in the side from one of Tony's blanket covered hands.

“Don't you turn this around on me Steven.” Tony grumps, but he doesn't resist when Steve helps him get comfortable after Bruce leaves the room. He ends up tucked against Steve's side. One blanket tossed away to leave him wrapped in Natasha's shawl and a big fluffy mauve duvet. Steve queues up a nature documentary about Galapagos penguins and sits back. The mug of tea in his hand is still warm, and Tony radiates heat where he is, pressed all along Steve's side.

 

“Missed you, I'm sorry you're sick, should have told me so I coulda brought you something on the way home from the mission.” He murmurs against the blanket covering Tony's head. Tony frowns deeply, sighing when Steve kisses the top of his head.

“I just wanted to spend some time alone with you, I've been working, been gone too much lately.” Tony says, wriggling around in the blankets to look up at him. Steve shakes his head, setting the mug of tea down on the coffee table and pulling Tony up onto his lap, blankets and all.

“Yeah well, we're both workaholics, knew that when we started this whole thing. Right now I just want you to get better.” Tony doesn't say anything to that. He just presses closer, letting Steve rub between his shoulders, his breath shuddery against Steve's neck where he's hiding his face. “Your chest is really hurting isn't it.” It's not a question.

“No.” Tony is so stubborn, Steve wonders if there's a gene for stubbornness, if so, both he and Tony probably have it in a big way.

“How long have you been sick?” Steve asks, undeterred. Tony is quiet for a moment, likely considering his escape routes, but then he slumps further against Steve, lifting his head to whisper against his ear.

“Got sick just after you left, one of the board members infected us all. They've all recovered but I'm still..I'm still. Tony hates revealing any kind of weakness, even if it's something far beyond his control. That he trusts Steve enough to even tell him this is monumental, even if they have been together now for months. Tony Stark is the kind of person that complains about the weather while he's dying. “Yeah, my chest hurts.” Tony finally says, body going lax when Steve slips a hand away from Tony's back, and between them. His fingers crawl up under Tony's shirt, leaving gentle touches, soothing over Tony's clavicles, pressing his thumb against taut pectoral muscles.

When Natasha returns with Tony's medication, he's passed out across Steve's chest. He rouses briefly to take the pills, swallowing them down with the aid of Steve's leftover tea, pulling a face at the taste of the medicine's coating.

“Those aren't opioid derived are they?” Tony says suddenly, sitting up straight.

“Tessalon perles are non narcotic, I asked the pharmacist, and you know Bruce wouldn't prescribe opioids for you unless it was unavoidable.” Natasha's voice is smooth and calming. “Relax Tony, just rest.”

Tony swallows visibly, but soon his eyes are slipping shut again as Steve runs his fingers through his dark tangled hair. He doesn't fall as deeply asleep as before, but he dozes on and off until lunch rolls around. His squawk of affront is absolutely worth the jab to the side when Steve rolls him up in the blankets and carries his squirming package into the kitchen.

“My friend!” Thor calls, setting down what looks to be an entire turkey. “Soon you will be a beautiful butterfly!” Thor grabs Tony from Steve's arms, swinging him around in a circle.

“Oh my god, fuck you Thor, I'll show you butterfly just as soon as I get out of here.”

“You will not, because as you have expressed on many occasions, I am your favorite-and as I am your favorite I have flown to Italy and brought you chocolates in your time of need.” In Thor's massive arms Tony stops squirming, fixing the Asgardian with a wide eyed stare.

“Okay yes, you're definitely my favorite. You're a beautiful generous man point break, and I love you best, sorry Steve, no offense.” Tony says winningly, eyes big and pleading, and irresistible.

“None taken.” Steve laughs, but he does reclaim Tony from Thor's enthusiastic bridal carry.

The chocolates are delicious. Tony shares them with everyone present while perched atop Steve. The bright smile on his face doesn't fade even through the occasional sneeze. Watching him thumb wrestle Bruce for the mint truffle, Steve can't think of anywhere he'd rather be.

 


End file.
